


Seasonally Confused

by RandomRuth



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Christmas, Confusion, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Humour, One-Shot, silliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-01
Updated: 2014-06-01
Packaged: 2018-02-03 00:52:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1725158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RandomRuth/pseuds/RandomRuth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's mid-August and the Ponds are enjoying their summer. But when they get back from a day out at the beach, they find a Time Lord in their house who is seasonally confused and thinks it's Christmas...</p><p>One-shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seasonally Confused

**Author's Note:**

> Oddly inspired by the Christmas Special of James May's Man Lab of all things. They filmed it in August even though they were cooking Christmas dinner and decorating a tree. Somehow, that gave me this idea. Strange how my mind works, isn't it? This one-shot is a little fluffy towards the end and plays on the idea that the Doctor is like an intergalactic child. Enjoy...

A trip to the coast was a brilliant idea.

Amy Pond licked her strawberry ice cream while lounging on a sun-soaked beach. If she wasn't still in the UK, the sky would probably be nice and blue – here it was cloudy, the sun making sudden appearances when the clouds moved in its favour. She wore a purple swimsuit (her bikini met with an unfortunate incident involving chewing gum and had to be binned) and her vibrant ginger hair cascaded down around her shoulders. Amy wasn't a fan of sun cream, but her pale complexion caused her to burn instead of tan. She was sure that her skin was a few shades lighter than usual, thanks to the factor fifty.

Other holidaymakers milled around her, becoming a blur as Amy stopped paying attention to them and instead focused on the sea itself. The waves teased the sand constantly, rhythmically, never stopping, inching closer and closer as the day wore on. Amy and Rory were only here for the one day, and they were going to make the most of it. For Amy, that meant lounging around and eating ice cream. For Rory, it meant taking surfing lessons.

Amy couldn't stop herself giggling as she caught a glimpse of Rory's surfing instructor. He looked like an army general; a cleanly shaven, angular jaw; grey and thin hair which had clearly seen better days and muscular arms. He was wearing a khaki vest and Amy was sure he had a whistle around his neck. Okay, maybe army general mixed in with a PE teacher. Neither sounded pleasant to Amy.

Then she spotted the orange swimming trunks of her husband, and the giggles turned into full-on laughter – she was laughing so much, she almost dropped her ice cream.

She was laughing because Rory had just fallen off his surfboard – again.

He really wasn't cut out for it, but when the newly qualified doctor won a chance to learn the art of surfing at a charity raffle, he had accepted. Amy wasn't going to come with him originally, but she had a change of heart due to the nice weather forecast for that day.

She watched from her safe distance as he dragged the surfboard back to the sandy shore while the army general shouted something at him. Rory seemed to ignore him and dump the surfboard in the sand, awkwardly untying it from his ankle in the process. The general was still shouting something at him when Rory reached Amy, who had now polished off her ice cream.

"Don't tell me you're giving up?" she teased. She wasn't as interested in his progress as a surfer as she was of the hilarious sight of him falling into the swirling water.

"My time's up," Rory replied, folding his arms and being serious. "Shall we go home?" He looked thoroughly annoyed at his lack of talent when it came to surfing and Amy was almost encouraged to apologise for finding it so funny. Almost.

Amy patted the unoccupied side of the blanket she was lying on. "Sit, Grumpy."

Rory scowled but did lie down on the sandy blanket. Once he was comfortable, Amy gave him a peck on the cheek. She smacked her lips. "You taste like the sea."

* * *

The familiar blue shades of their home rolled into view. Both Amy and Rory didn't hide their happiness at the homeliness of it. They had done much to the interior, as the way the Doctor had left it didn't exactly suit either of their tastes, but the exterior stayed roughly the same. Even the garden had a flower patch that the Doctor could crush with his time machine every time he landed.

Rory pulled the red car into the drive and put on the handbrake while Amy got out. He caught up with her as she arrived at the front door. Shoving the key into the lock and turning it a few times made the lock click and they were granted entry. Rory carried the suitcase and left it at the foot of the stairs.

Amy inspected the kitchen – it was just as they had left it.

The study was just as they had left it.

The bathroom was just how they had left it.

The living room was an entirely different story.

Green, reflective tinsel lined the angle between the wall and the roof, left to sag in the middle and hang down for a little distance before being fixed in place up high again. A Christmas tree, decorated with countless baubles and strands of tinsel along with some fairy lights sat beside the television in a corner. A cuddly polar bear was on the coffee table and the windowsill was home to what looked like a colony of penguins wearing Santa hats.

Amy just stared. It was August – who on Earth could have done this?

The culprit chose that moment to spring up from his hiding place behind the sofa with a manic grin on his face and of course, a Santa hat resting on his head. And then Amy realised that she'd just asked herself a really stupid question.

"Merry Christmas, Pond!"

"Of course," Amy muttered under her breath, "not on Earth."

The Doctor raised an eyebrow, amused. "Are you quietly muttering something that I may find offensive, Pond?"

"No!" Amy said a little too quickly, but the Doctor had already dropped the matter.

"What do you think?" he asked, gesturing wildly to the rest of the room.

"What the hell have you done to my living room?"

* * *

_Three hours earlier…_

The Doctor wasn't winning this particular bet.

He watched with his mouth hanging uselessly open as River licked her elbow with surprising ease.

She grinned smugly at him. "Now it's my turn."

"How did… that's…" the Doctor stuttered. She placed a finger to his lips to silence him and to get his attention. He gulped. She had that affect on him even now.

"I bet that..." she paused, either for some thinking or for dramatic effect, "that you can't celebrate Christmas with my family without getting into trouble."

That annoying and smug grin was back.

"I can do that," the Doctor said, hoping that he was sounding more confident than he felt.

"You're sure?" asked River, sceptical. The Doctor nodded. "Alright then, but just to help you out, I'll look after the TARDIS."

The Doctor looked outraged. "No! I don't need to be without my TARDIS just so I stay out of trouble!"

"Sweetie, the TARDIS is the cause of a lot of your trouble. Or would you rather give up on our little game?"

The Doctor was torn, but his stubborn streak won out. "No. I'll go. But where are you going with my TARDIS?"

"Don't worry yourself with that. Just take the TARDIS to a Christmas and then we'll part ways. I'll be back for you in say… two days?"

The Doctor sighed and pointed a warning finger in her direction. "If you recalibrate the quantum decomfrubulator…" He let the end of the sentence hang in the air. No doubt she could figure it out.

"I wouldn't dare, Sweetie," River reassured, shaking her head earnestly. It wasn't all that convincing.

They both made their way to the console room and the Doctor piloted the TARDIS to what he thought was a Christmas. He gave River one last wary look before leaving. River checked the scanner and giggled.

He'd landed in August.

But she didn't go and stop him. That would break the rules.

What rules? Well, she'd think of some later.

* * *

_And so..._

"I'm here to make this be the best Christmas ever. Imagine... you didn't even have any decorations up!" The Doctor tutted.

The Doctor looked to Amy expectantly, as if hoping for praise or a pat on the head or some sort of treat.

Rory had arrived by now and he was hovering behind Amy, unwilling to face the Scottish fury head-on, even when it was directed at someone else.

"Doctor, for the hundredth time, it's August," Amy insisted. She'd have expected her attire - a tank top, shorts and flip-flips - to prove the point.

The Doctor wasn't behind the sofa any longer, instead standing beside the coffee table, slightly confused but defiant. "No, it isn't."

"Yes, it is – look out the window," Amy commanded, motioning towards the window that looked out onto the street, with full and green-leaved trees, healthy grass and summer sunshine. The Doctor reluctantly did.

"Oh," he said, feeling down all of a sudden - blue, but not in a good way.

"Exactly. I don't care that it's a bet. You'll just have to celebrate something other than Christmas." Her tone brokered no argument, but that didn't stop the Doctor.

His face lit up. "I have an idea! Let's celebrate Christmas anyway! I mean, I'm stranded until River comes back and I'm sure the shops in the twenty-first century have everything we'll need."

Amy brought her palm to her face while Rory rolled his eyes. This could not end well.

* * *

Rory was proven right.

As it turned out, taking a Time Lord in a Christmas hat that he refused to remove under any circumstances to a public place wasn't the best of ideas. For a start, he wanted to ride in the trolley. Amy had – calmly – reminded him that it was his idea to come here in the first place and that Rory should push the trolley while the Doctor threw things into it for his 'Christmas' party. The Doctor had pouted but agreed.

Now as Rory pushed the trolley, which was full of cold turkey slices, which would be well placed in a sandwich, summer fruits and ice cream (at least something was normal), the Doctor was waltzing from aisle to aisle, throwing random items of food into the trolley. Amy was following behind the Doctor, shaking her head.

 _At least you don't have to pay for it_ , Rory thought bitterly as the Doctor threw a single orange into the moving trolley. The Doctor was receiving strange looks from children and old ladies alike for his strange choice of summer headgear, but he wasn't fazed in the slightest.

Finally, after what seemed like the longest and most awkward shopping trip ever in the history of humanity, the Doctor declared, "That's everything unless I've forgotten something."

Then he led the way to the checkout. Amy helped him unload the trolley's cargo onto the conveyor belt. The grumpy-looking forty-something woman at the till gave the Doctor a questioning look.

"You Australian or something, love?"

The trio glanced at each other before the Doctor said (in what had to be the worst Australian accent the couple had ever heard), "Yes. G'day mate…" He faltered at the Ponds' stares. "…And all that," he said, slipping back into his normal voice. "No, but it was fun trying," he grinned. The woman at the till simply stared at him, unimpressed.

She seemed to give up the subject after that. "That's £102.46," she announced. Rory shot daggers at the Doctor with his eyes but said nothing, pulling his wallet out on automatic. To his surprise, the Doctor stopped him.

Holding the physic paper up so that the woman could see it, the Doctor began to explain. "We're members of the 'Everything's for Free' club, trademark. Basically, we can go into any shop and get free stuff. Official, part of the government, brand new section."

You could tell that the Doctor was an expert at lying – his face or body language gave nothing away. The woman looked perplexed but nodded nonetheless. "Good," said the Doctor. "Thank you for your time."

* * *

It was like being faced with your greatest nightmare in a sandwich.

Amy hated oranges, as ironic as that sounded, so she eyed the Doctor's culinary creation with distrust, as if it was about to leap off the plate and attack her.

On her plate was a white bread sandwich with turkey and orange in it. That was against the laws of nature in Amy's book.

The kitchen, on her insistence, had been left undecorated, so Rory and Amy occupied the living room sofa with the Doctor in the armchair across the room. Amy wrinkled her nose as the Doctor took unnaturally large bites of his own sandwiches. Rory was sitting, staring at his single sandwich but not daring to touch it, let alone eat it. Amy just wanted to throw hers out of a window, or chuck it in the bin, or…

The Doctor had finished his sandwiches and was looking sad already.

"Would you like mine, Doctor?" she offered sweetly, leaning forwards. The Doctor was about to shake his head when she persisted. "I don't want mine. I'm not hungry."

"You can have mine too," Rory added eagerly, tipping up his plate so the deadly sandwich landed on top of Amy's.

"If you're sure…" He left room for a last minute change of mind but there was none. The Doctor beamed and came over to take the offerings, wolfing them down in no time.

* * *

That turned out to be just the start.

They had occupied the sofa again while the Doctor sat under the tree, ready to hand out the presents that had suddenly appeared there with any kind of explanation. Amy and Rory were both unwilling to move from the security of their seats so the Doctor (who, if possible, was even more energetic than he had been before) shuffled over to them with three wrapped presents.

He handed one to Amy and another to Rory, keeping the last one to himself.

The Doctor watched from his position on the floor (the Santa hat stubbornly remaining on his head) as Amy smiled and opened her present.

"I've gotten you the traditional Earth Christmas present," the Doctor said, grinning like a four-year-old on Christmas morning.

Amy threw away the wrapping paper to reveal a red woollen jumper. Around the tummy area was an embroidered snow scene. It was hideous, especially to the fashion-conscious Amy. She smiled falsely. "Thank you, Doctor." The Doctor kept watching her and she finally slipped it on.

"You look great, Pond," he exclaimed with wide arms.

"Yeah… Anyway, what's your present, Rory?" asked Amy enthusiastically, changing the subject as quickly as she could.

"A jumper," Rory said flatly, holding up the green and red patterned… thing. Rory slipped it on over his summer shirt.

"And you, Doctor?" Amy asked the Doctor, turning her attention to him.

The Doctor unwrapped the present enthusiastically. It was a jumper too, royal blue with a decorated Christmas tree on the front. He pulled it on over his tweed jacket, making him look even more ridiculous than he already did and that was no mean feat. Amy picked up the discarded gift tag which read, 'TO THE DOCTOR, FROM THE DOCTOR'.

Amy looked at him and raised an eyebrow. "You got a present for yourself?"

"I didn't see any of you two going shopping for me," he replied, before leaning forwards, hopeful, "Did you?"

"No..." Amy admitted. She didn't know why she felt so bad saying it – he had gone to get her and Rory scratchy jumpers and now she owed him a present. But what would he want? It would be impossible to shop for him.

"How long did River say she would be?" Rory asked the Doctor, interrupting her thoughts.

"Two days."

"And you have nowhere to stay?"

"You can stay here!" Amy shouted. She'd lived with him in the TARDIS for a long time. Surely just one more day would be a doddle? Besides, this could be his temporary present until she thought of something better.

The Doctor looked touched, and it warmed Amy's heart more than she dared to admit.

* * *

The next morning, day two with the Doctor, dawned.

It was a Saturday and that meant a sleep-in for both Amy and Rory. Or it would have been, had it not been for the Doctor causing a racket of epic proportions downstairs. Somehow, Rory was sleeping like a log. Amy yawned and stood up from her bed, stretching as she went. She grabbed a dressing gown and headed for the kitchen where most of the sound seemed to be coming from.

There was an almighty crash and Amy hurried down the final few steps, landing gracefully on the carpet of the hall. The door to the kitchen was closed. Amy knocked on it.

It opened a tiny crack, revealing the strawberry jam-splattered face of the Doctor.

"What are you doing in there?" Amy asked, already worried about the welfare of her kitchen.

"Making you breakfast in bed. Now go back to bed, Pond," he said.

"But—"

"Pond. Bed. Now."

Amy nodded and went upstairs again, climbing back into bed only to stare at the ceiling.

Fifteen minutes later, the door was roughly opened and the Doctor entered in a flurry of jingling cutlery and gangly limbs. The Santa hat he had refused to remove the day before had been discarded somewhere along the line and his hair was even more messy than usual.

For once he had made something edible for humans. There was orange juice for Rory, milk for Amy, pancakes and corn flakes.

Rory had jolted awake when the door had banged open. Now he sat up in bed next to Amy, who was already sitting up, awaiting their Doctor-provided breakfast.

As she ate, Amy kept thinking about what to get the Doctor as a present. It was a difficult choice.

* * *

The Doctor's Christmas dinner consisted of all of those heavy foods that one would never usually eat in the middle of summer. The only thing that was off was the turkey – not the whole turkey that the Ponds usually had, but the same slices that had been in those dreadful sandwiches yesterday, warmed up in the microwave. Eating Christmas dinner in their living room in August was the oddest thing that Amy and Rory had done since leaving their lives in the TARDIS.

The Doctor, being a surprisingly good cook, had pulled it off and Amy was finding herself enjoying spending her Saturday with the Doctor and Rory. It was like old times.

The Doctor, in his eleven hundred and three years, must have celebrated many Christmases, but she supposed that he had spent many of them alone. That saddened her, but it did give her the idea for his present. She barely contained her excitement as she polished off her dinner. She twiddled her thumbs as she waited for her boys to catch up with her. The Doctor finished next, and Rory was last. As soon as Rory's fork made noisy contact with the empty plate on his lap, Amy spoke up.

"Can everyone get their jumpers on, please, and wait here?"

The Doctor tilted his head to one side before nodding. Rory looked betrayed at Amy's mention of the jumpers but caught Amy's warning glare and eventually nodded too.

She ran from the room and didn't miss the look that Rory and the Doctor shared.

Amy returned a few minutes later with a camera and a tri-pod and wearing her own itchy jumper. She put the camera on a timer and instructed her boys to stand beside the tree. They did so, and she squeezed in-between them and they waited for the camera to take the picture. There was a flash and all three ran around to the back of the camera to see.

It was just what Amy wanted. The Doctor in a bow tie and Santa hat, a woollen jumper on top of tweed. Rory smiling that warm smile of his despite the itchiness of his own woolly jumper. And there she was, with her boys, a genuine smile on her face. But she wasn't done yet.

"Wait here, boys," she said, before adding as an afterthought, "and do the washing up."

Amy ran out of the house and disappeared over the hill of the street as her boys watched from a window.

* * *

"I'm back!" Amy called when she returned half an hour later. She was holding a large plastic bag containing the Doctor's present. There was the sound of laughter and splashing water from the kitchen. Curious as to what was happening to destroy her kitchen now, Amy walked over to the door and peered in.

The Doctor and Rory were having a soap bubble fight and it looked like Rory was winning. There were more bubbles on the Doctor's jumper than in the sink and Rory was covered in even fewer. They were laughing at some bubbles that had landed on Rory's nose. He was cross-eyed as he stared at them.

Impatient to see the Doctor's reaction to her present, Amy cleared her throat.

Both men jumped, looked mildly embarrassed at being caught out, before descending into fits of laughter once more. Amy glanced at the sink which was full of water, bubbles and unwashed dishes. She rolled her eyes. The kitchen was a real mess.

When the Doctor and Rory had composed themselves once more, Amy held up her plastic bag.

"I've gotten you a present, Doctor," she said. She smiled as the Doctor's face it up in a massive grin. Once he had dried his hands, she handed him the bag and the Doctor pulled out his present.

It was the photo Amy had just taken, enlarged and framed. "Aw, thanks, Pond," he beamed.

"It's so you never forget us. You'll never spend another Christmas alone."

For a moment, the Doctor looked as if he was about to cry, but then he just gave Amy the biggest hug he had ever given her. Rory soon joined in.

It was probably the soapiest hug that the world had ever seen.

* * *

The sound of the TARDIS could be heard from the garden and the Doctor led the way out, clutching the picture to his chest, unwilling to let it go. Amy and Rory followed. The time machine, as it was not driven by its owner, didn't land on Amy's flowerbed and therefore didn't crush her flowers. That was a first. Instead the TARDIS had landed right beside the flowers. Perfect.

River Song stepped out, her appearance a little more haggard than that of two days ago. Before the Doctor could question it, she smiled. "Stay out of trouble, Sweetie?"

"Yes, I did," the Doctor announced proudly. River opened her mouth to reply but was cut off before she could begin. He continued, "But it looks like you didn't."

Before River could protest, Amy had dragged River to the kitchen to see the mess that the Doctor's cooking had created. She might have felt she was being harsh, but she winked at the Doctor while she dragged her daughter. He winked back.

Because, of course, it was all River's fault in the first place.

**Author's Note:**

> And that's it folks. This was originally going to be 1,000 words... uh... I just got a few extra ideas and chucked them in. Merry Christmas and a happy New Year to all of you wonderful people! :)
> 
> Originally posed on FanFiction.Net on 20th December 2011.


End file.
